


Sukoshi Chō (Little Butterfly) Yomo x reader x Uta CANCELLED FOREVER

by DirtyDummy



Series: Sukoshi Chō (Little Butterfly) Yomo x reader x Uta [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: 4th ward, Anime, Boutique, Brutal humor, Drama, F/M, Fanfiction, Flashbacks, Judaism, Love Story, Love Triangle, Manga, Multi, Nightmares, humans vs ghouls, sukoshi chō little butterfly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 19
Words: 11,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5383478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyDummy/pseuds/DirtyDummy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you’ve been living in a country that completely denies your race’s existence, it’s hard to come back to a place that fears you and not feel a little bit overwhelmed with the power rush that you get; it’s a high, pure and simple. You want to howl and scream when no one knows who you are, but when they all know your name and see your faces on big screens you pull your hoods up around your ears and just feel bad. There is this constant fight in your mind between, blessing and curse, God and Demon, friend or foe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

My name is Iba Kakoto, I’m 25 years of age, and consume human flesh to survive. I just returned to Japan from the United States of America. When I was traveling from Japan to countries that believed they had completely exterminated the Ghouls that had inhabited their borders, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad. It’s not every day that you go to a youth shelter and see kids not eating because they don’t know that the food that’s being shoved into their mouths isn’t meant to sustain their life forms. I live in an era where Ghouls are not only feared, but attacked out of rejected knowledge. We might as well be extinct if we’re going to be ignored by these fools. The only other trouble with coming back to Japan is that I’m back in a constant battle zone, now I’ll have to don my ever so famous gasmask. Most beautiful thing I ever wore. I don’t know why I thought coming back to the last country where I would be in danger would ever be a good idea.  
The answer is I have connections, connections and a chance to survive here. Although I could survive in the other countries without being noticed at all, I would rather survive with people I know, and people I care for; besides, I got a job offer to start my own boutique in Harajuku. See, connections. My store, sukoshi chō, or Little Butterfly was set up by a good friend of mine, someone who I desperately believe can help me find all of my old associates, that or some of them. I learned to sew as a little girl in the 4th ward. Although my family lived in the next ward over, I sought to spend more time with my grandmother whom refused to move even though the “disgraceful children” were trying to “run her out”. I always wanted to keep her company, as she was the only family member who would talk to me about my mother whom I supposedly looked so much like.  
My mother’s name was also Iba, she died in childbirth and my father, Hiroshi Kakoto claimed me, yet ignored me, failing to remember that I was part his as well. So as a byproduct of a failing man and a dead woman, I was taken care of mostly by my maternal grandmother. The old woman was kind and witty, she could make any nightmare I may happen to have, disappear in an instant with a simple, song. 

Don’t worry little butterfly,  
Don’t worry little one,  
You may rest now,  
Now that the pain is done,  
I am here,  
Do not fear,  
I am here,  
Eternally,  
Let,  
Oh let it be,

It may have been small and light, but it held great meaning for me and always helped when I had nightmares about things like the fights one the streets, the deaths of loved ones by Doves or cannibalistic fools. Soon though, I would learn the way of the streets and the 4th ward would become more than just a place of residence. It would become the place where those I loved most had held their ground and cared for me when I needed them the most.


	2. Just like old times

It was a beautiful autumn day in Harajuku, the citizenry mingled freely. People of all ages, shapes and sizes and fashion types waiting, going to and from place to place, one person in particular was noticeable to people, as a group of young ladies and some men gathered round her rather frilly store, the woman looked out of place in the sea of Lolita girls. Her dark grey sweater and black jeans put a different spin on the store entirely as she unlocked the doors for the first time.   
Suddenly the whole crowd surrounding the woman shouted, “Omedetōgozaimasu” as the blandly dressed woman threw open the large glass doors, she walked in and greeted the customers as they filed by her. Some gave her little gifts, charms and good welcome cards, some weren’t even customers but other designers and boutique owners whom decided to wish well to the new kid on the block.   
How much the young girl stood out was almost painfully obvious, as her store was full of frilly, pastel, light and almost childish items, although her face covered in dark makeup, with blue lipstick and dark clothes. She had been swinging around a rather large vinyl backpack and finally put it behind the desk that was stationed in the middle of the large room. The walls, covered in a robins egg blue and white mirrors were lined with dresses, shirts, and the occasional painting. In the back there were small changing rooms that could be accessed with a key, and a restroom as well. The majority of the north wall had tables pushed up against it with little oddities such as anime character plushies and hair bows. Surrounding the check out desk was a glass case full of jewelry and limited edition figurines.   
The shop owner started to walk around to speak to her new patrons, as she did, she noticed 2 slightly familiar faces, or rather a familiar face and a familiar sleeve of tattoos.   
“Itori? Is that you?” A woman with long straight auburn hair and amber eyes turned away from the black leather corset she was admiring and looked the woman with blue lips in the eyes.  
“ Iba-chan? You’ve gotten bolder. You kept the lipstick though.” She replied, her hands played with the silk laces to the corset as the man she was accompanied by looked over Itori’s shoulder at Iba.  
“Who’s this, with you? It can’t be the infamous Uta.” Iba teased. She pointed a finger at the man and laughed at her own joke.  
“Oh really, and who says I can’t be Uta?” the man asked.  
“Your hair is all wrong, and you aren’t wearing those hideous glasses anymore.” As soon as Iba said the words she coiled up, preparing for someone to strike. Although when he did not lash out she resumed her former position of with her hands by her sides and continued to speak. “So, you gave it up on purpose? Or did Itori get into your head?”  
“A little bit of both I suppose.” Itori answered for him, she held up the corset she had been fingering to her torso and turned to the male and female. “So, how do you think this looks?”  
“I think you would like the one I have in the back.” Iba said as she walked towards the back of the store, she pulled a ring of keys from her belt and shuffled through the ocean of customers that continued to flow in through the front door. As she continued to retrieve the corset, the other ghouls spoke to each other about their long lost friend.  
“She hasn’t changed a bit.” Itori whispered with a stupid grin plastered to her face.  
“What are you planning?” Uta asked dully.  
“Oh nothing, just a little, family reunion.”  
“But her family’s all, oh…” Uta’s face slowly twisted into a smile as the two thought wickedly, planning their little scheme as Iba’s face slowly came back into view.  
“Here you are Itori, the Lindsey corset, it’s brown and will complement your eyes, as well as bring out your hair.” Iba, noticing the looks that the two ghouls had on their faces slowly backed away, “What, you two aren’t going to do something stupid are you?”  
“No,” said Itori, “ but we do need you to come see how far we’ve made it in our lives. You’re not the only big shot here in town.”  
“Oh?” Iba looked from Itori to Uta, her mind wandering into the unknown, what is it that these fools could manage other than a fight club?   
“When you’re done here, we’ll come by and take you out for drinks, how bout it?”  
“All right then. You going to buy the corset?” Iba smirked, handing the large-breasted corset to Itori and a cuff bracelet to Uta. “I found this in the back, I forgot that I had ordered these about 2 months before I got here. I think it will be a nice touch to your excessive punk.”  
Uta took the bracelet and put it around his wrist.   
As the three ghouls walked up to the check out desk, a slue of customers had already formed a line that ringed around the shop a sign that Iba should be getting back to work. After getting to the desk, she started to smile, finally feeling her life fall back into place, even as her friends stayed towards the end of the line, she thought of how soon, she would see how much better their lives had become, and how she would possibly see the love of her life that she had come back for. Renji Yomo.


	3. Long Time No See

Shortly after Iba was finished selling items and doing inventory for the Little Butterfly, she walked out of the back of the store and into an alley that turned into the street at both ends. Slowly she lifted a pack of cigarettes and a cobalt blue lighter with a little ballerina engraved on it from her large vinyl bag and took a long puff of the smoke, enjoying the relaxing feeling it gave her as she had had a long and rather difficult day, running the store was a little more confusing than she had though it would be.   
Clink  
Iba turned her head sharply to the left. ‘What was that?’ bending over to investigate further, she noticed what looked like a piece of ripped grey-green wool, although the color would normally blend in and be unnoticed to most people, Iba’s attention to detail and habit of over analyzing her surroundings caused her to not only notice it, but what it was attached to, a large and huddled figure.  
“When did you start smoking? I though you were against that stuff?” asked the coat wearer.  
“You know when, you just kept denying it.” Iba replied smoothly.  
“Stop it.”  
“You asked.”   
“Why are you back anyways?”  
“Besides Harajuku?”  
“Besides Harajuku.”  
“You dumbass.” Iba nudged the huddled mass with her foot and bent down to pat his head.  
“Don’t.” He jerked away almost afraid that he would shatter into a million pieces if touched.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“You left without telling anyone.”  
“I told Nana.”  
“Your Nana is dead. She died shortly after you left, she never told us why you left.”  
“Oh, that’s why the letters stopped coming.” Iba stood up straight and continued to puff her almost stunted cigarette. “The rest of the world believes that Ghouls are extinct. Especially America, now they allow their kids to dress up like us for Halloween. It’s messed up. I’ve seen the pits of hell, and I don’t even believe in hell. That’s why I came back, to a place that hates me, so that I could at least be acknowledged and not be treated like a work of fiction.”   
As Iba said these things, the man looked up at her and wondered if what she spoke of could possibly be true. “But how?”  
“They move faster than us, remember, they believe in aliens and vampires. So from that, they are more creative to think about capturing rather than just killing. It’s how they made sure that what they used against ghouls, would kill them.” Iba’s tone was dull and matter-of-fact it seemed as if she wasn’t speaking of her own kind being rid from the planet.  
“Why come back here to be murdered though?” the man’s face contorted into a quizzical look that made Iba wonder how much thought he put into looking confused.  
“I want to help populate and further our race if at all possible. Then we can try and educate the dumb humans that we don’t have to violent unless we are attacked. Sort of like any other predator.” Iba cocked her head to the side, trying to make sure that the other ghoul wasn’t too confused.  
“Then, that’s why you said…” The man’s face relaxed a little.  
“Now you’re catching on.” Iba dropped her cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out. “Hey, I have somewhere to go, think you could guide me? Someplace called, Helter Skelter.”  
“Itori’s bar?”  
“Yeah. She and Uta dropped by my new shop and asked me to join them for drinks later.”  
Within a few minutes, the man in the grey-green coat and the woman with blue lipstick were on their way to the Helter Skelter bar to meet up with old friends.


	4. Blood Wine

Iba, being a former resident of Japan, knew the to manage a crowd fairly well, however being squished against the man she used to know in an effort to efficiently walk the streets of the Tokyo rush hour from one crowded shopping district to another. Although Iba couldn’t keep up with the man’s rather large pace, she made up for it by maneuvering and weaving in and out of the throng of people like a cat.   
Tall buildings were lining the streets, flashing lights and signs, fashion of varying cultures, school uniforms and business suits as well as the occasional loud speaker from a street-level shop encouraging the populous to spend what little they had on what they did not need. The entire scene was nothing but chaos and headaches.  
As the two rounded a bend, the crowd dissipated almost instantaneously. The two walked downwards into an underground entrance to what seemed to be an all too familiar scented place.  
Iba sniffed the air, “How many fights tend to happen here?”  
“Not many. But Itori doesn’t tend to clean up the outside of the bar as much as she does the inside.”  
Assessing his answer, Iba walked towards the rather large steel door just in time to see it swing open in front of her.  
“Oh! There you are!” Itori’s shrill voice pierced through the air like a knife. “And you found Yomo too!”  
“Yeah, I kind of stumbled on him.” Iba replied, chuckling. She walked into the bar and sat down next to Uta, hoping that it would get Yomo slightly jealous.  
Yomo, not seeing the gesture, decided to sit on the opposite side of Uta as Itori poured 4 glasses of blood wine into fine crystal.  
Iba’s glass sat untouched for quite some time as the four began to converse profusely, mostly over how Iba got to owning a shop of her own, how she survived out in “no ghoul’s land” and also about how things were in Japan, who was still alive, who didn’t make it, and most of all, the half-ghouls that kept popping up everywhere.  
“So, what you’re saying is that we’re myths? Like vampires and dragons and unicorns?” Itori questioned.  
“Exactly like vampires, dragons and unicorns. The media would come on every day saying that another ‘hoax killing’ had occurred or that some raving maniac cannibal was terrorizing the towns and so which ever ghoul was actually killing, would never be caught. Although in some cases, there would be secret societies set up just to abolish us completely. Now mind you, these people would have no affiliation with the government and could go about their daily lives being untouched by ghoul-kind.  
“To put it plainly, once one of ours died, their family and community would never know like they would here. The mass media is all too ignorant elsewhere, causing societal shutdowns. Children would be found on the streets, children who would not know how to feed themselves, put into homes. The homes can’t feed the children, so either the children die, or they get so hungry they learn and kill everyone in the home.” Iba sighed heavily and took a long swig of the blood wine in front of her.  
The others took a moment of silence to let the information to sink in, a world or mythology. It was difficult to swallow, almost painful, yet the way Iba was so calm about the whole idea was shocking.   
Yomo looked into the glass of blood wine before him before asking, “So is it really any safer out there than it is here?”  
Itori and Uta looked at Iba expectantly, “I doubt it, I had to kill a few people, but not for the necessity of eating. It wasn’t fun. There are organizations though, in countryside areas where children are taken care of and fed, they are taught how to hunt and stay safe. Once they are old enough, they are sent out into the world to fend for themselves.”  
“Smart.” With this, everyone took a sip of their wine, except for Yomo, whom drank the whole glass. This drew everyone’s attention.  
“Careful Ren-chan!” Itori exclaimed. She reached her hand out as if to stop him, but he had already swigged down the drink.  
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Uta looked at Yomo, his eyes showing more concern than anything else.  
Iba smirked, she knew that Yomo’s foolishness would catch up to him and when it did, she could claim him for herself.


	5. Religion

Iba stood in the alleyway behind Itori’s bar, the sky had gotten dark with hues of blue, purple and pink, she puffed out a perfect ring of smoke, hoping to impress the man standing next to her. However, he continued to look towards the wall on the other side of the alley, wanting to ignore her and the disgusting smell that she carried around with her now.  
“Why did you start that habit anyways?” Yomo asked.  
“I like the burn, you know that.” Iba scoffed and flicked the ash from her cigarette.  
“Yes, but I thought you had found another way to get that.”  
“I did, but I left and couldn’t find it in my heart to do so.”  
“You’re going soft.”  
Iba rolled her eyes at the thought and fingered the chain around her neck.  
“What’s that?” Squinting his eyes, Yomo could see that Iba was wearing a Star of David charm on a silver chain.   
“What’s what?”  
“Your necklace, I didn’t know you believed in that stuff.”  
“Yeah, I converted about 5 years ago.” She stared at him and dropped the cigarette butt onto the ground.  
“Why would you leave us all? Why would you leave me?”  
“Excuse me?” Iba stubbed out the butt and gawked at her ex.   
“I thought we… I thought we were doing okay.” The stuttering seemed out of character, but so was their relationship.  
“I didn’t leave because of you. I left because I wasn’t comfortable being confined to a world where I’m constantly hunted. I wanted to explore, so I did, now I’m back.” She sighed and put a hand on his shoulder, looking at him empathetically. “You’re drunk, go home.”  
“I’m not…” hic “Drunk. I just want answers.”  
“Sure you do.” She removed her hand as he started to walk away. When she stepped back into the bar the other two ghouls stared at her expectantly. “I told him to go home.”  
“Oh you’re no fun!” Itori groaned and waved her hand dismissively at Iba. “Well, I should close up.”  
Uta, still staring at Iba yawned and stretched almost like a cat and stood up. “Do you need someone to walk you home?”  
“Seriously?”  
“Yeah, it’s gotten worse with the Doves.” Uta put on his coat, continuing to watch Iba.  
“Sure, I remember all that.”  
“You should take the offer.” Itori looked over at the two as she locked the front entrance. The woman walked over to the others and opened the door. “Come on, I just have to go up stairs, you have to go through a battle zone.”  
“I guess it wouldn’t be too bad,” Iba shrugged and walked through the back door, followed by her ‘escort’ and the bartender.  
Once Itori was safely up in her apartment, the two ghouls began to walk towards the fourth ward. When Iba pointed to her apartment building, she had expected Uta to stand and wait for her to go inside like they had when they left Itori; however, he followed her up the stairs and to the door.  
“What are you doing? You don’t need to follow me all the way home.” Iba turned around to see Uta right in front of her, the same blank expression as always, but his eyes, saying something completely different.   
“I know.” He put his hand by her head and leaned in to kiss her, but Iba turned her head and looked at the ground.  
“I didn’t come back to screw up again. I came back to prove that I can be a good person.” She put a hand on her necklace and rubbed her thumb over the initials that were deeply carved in.  
“Too bad…” Although Uta seemed callous in that statement he sighed and moved away. “He’s lucky, not saying I’m not jealous, but he’s still lucky.”  
“I know… I just don’t want to ruin it this time.” Iba turned around and unlocked the apartment door, walking in and shutting the door behind her. She slid down the doorframe to the floor and sobbed silently.  
Uta lingered a few seconds more, letting himself realize that it was truly over. When he left he had replaced the look in his eyes with the same blank look that washed over the rest of his face.


	6. Old Blood

Iba stretched in her bed, it was so warm and inviting as compared to the cold wooden floor of the apartment. She sighed as she thought about how disappointed people would be if she didn’t show up to her shop for the holiday rush. Christmas in Harajuku, Japan; so many girls and their boyfriends were rushing about looking for the right thing to wear to company parties, family gatherings and for gifts that they could give to those that mattered most. Although the rest of Harajuku had strung up lights and put Christmas trees in their windows a month ago, Iba had decided to take a more varied approach and put up multiple religious symbols, however, the 9-branch menorah would be the centerpiece as she was now a woman of Judaism. It may not have been a high holy day, but it was still a good idea to practice.   
Iba rose from her bed and jumped around on tiptoes as she adjusted to the frozen floor. When she went to the window she saw a familiar figure standing in the fresh snow, waiting for her. When she gestured for him to come up the stairs she realized that she was hardly an attractive site.   
The woman slipped into her daytime clothes and went the door, the man knocked three times and she opened the door just enough for him to enter but not for the cold winter’s wind to blow in any of the chill.   
“I’m sorry I wasn’t prepared, I just woke up.”  
“It’s alright, I didn’t expect you to be up that quickly, you do have that store keeping you up late after all.” The man was of average height, had brown hair and wore a deep black trench coat. His head was adorned with a yamaka as he smiled at Iba. It may have seemed odd to have a rabbi call on you early in the morning, but the kind-hearted ghoul funded Iba’s entire life. Her apartment was rented for the next 6 months; her store was bought and the items all ordered with his personal money.  
“Let me put on the coffee.” She went to the counter and pressed the on switch on the coffee pot. “Thanks again for all of the things you’ve been doing, you really didn’t need to.”  
“It was my pleasure.” The rabbi sat down at the small circular table in the middle of the kitchen. “Have you been catching up with your old contacts?”  
“Yes, they seem to be… how should I put it, in a bit of distress. Two of them were a bit confused that I came back alive. My other friend, she… well, she’s just weird.”  
“I believe that’s the way you described them to begin with.”  
Iba opened the cupboard and grabbed down two mugs, filling them with black coffee. As she set one in front of the rabbi she sat down across from him with her own mug. “I came back for Ren, but I can’t help feeling that I was lying to myself. A week ago my old interest, the reason I left Tokyo, walked me home. When I got to my door, he tried to kiss me. It was so… difficult to say no. I don’t know if I should continue to seek out a relationship with Ren, or move on with my life.”  
“Well, I’m afraid I’m not a love councilor. I’m just here to help you get on your feet again. However, if you do choose one, you cannot choose the other, so you must be completely sure on your decision.” The man took a large gulp from the coffee and stood. “I have to leave now. Have a wonderful day, I hope that you can figure out your dilemma sometime soon.”  
“Me too.” Iba put the mugs in the sink and moved on with the rest of her day as the rabbi left, she went to work and sold over $2,000 USD worth of items in the process of the day, when she came home she sat down to a glass of blood wine and online dramas. The whole time she imagined herself as the heroin and Ren as the intended love interest, but with Uta as the third point in their intriguing love triangle.   
Soon after Iba realized she was drunk, she closed her laptop and flopped on her couch, falling asleep as soon as possible. 

In dream

The group was sitting in a plush living room, discussing their future, love interests and what they wanted from life. Itori was going on about how Iba should get back with Ren because they would have cute babies.   
The room changes slowly and moves into an alter, Iba is walking up the aisle towards a male figure, she can’t tell who it is or if she even knows them. All she knows is that the person is someone she is supposed to marry.   
The rabbi stands at attention in front of the man and waits for Iba to reach the alter, when she does she turns to her left and looks at the man. He has no face, no eyes, no lips, nose or any defining features. It scares her into submission when the rabbi asks them to say I do.   
“I do,” the voice is familiar, but she can’t place it.  
Itori tells Iba to toss the bouquet into a crowd of more faceless and undefined people. She tosses it and the man she is now married to grabs her hand. They walk down the aisle and out of the synagogue into the sun; Iba puts up her arm reflexively, but realizes that her eyes aren’t stinging from the light. When she puts her hand on her face, she feels nothing, just skin, flat and smooth. She looks around her at the people noticing that she knows none of them.

End Dream

Iba wakes up with a start and puts her hands on her face, feeling to make sure she is the same ghoul as she always has been. She stares looks around the room and gets up, going to the bedroom to sleep in a better place, more comfortable and less scary. The thought still goes through her mind.  
Who were they?


	7. Mistletoe Kiss

As Iba closed the shop doors behind her, locking them and swinging her vinyl bag back over her shoulder as she walked briskly down to the end of the street, only to be intercepted by someone she would have thought to be at work.   
“Hello Rabbi Eli,” Iba looked anywhere but at the man, she was in a hurry, but didn’t want to seem like she was disrespecting the man.   
“Hello, Iba, I didn’t realize that you were staying at work so late these days.” The man had his hands clasped in front of him as he always did, his face bearing a small smile. He seemed nice, but when you got down to it, he was just a bit… off.  
“Yeah, I was working on some new designs, I don’t know if they will look good though.” As she tried her damndest to think up an excuse a rather delightfully familiar scent penetrated the air.  
Uta walked up behind Rabbi Eli and looked at Iba with slight confusion.   
“Oh hey, sorry I’m late, got caught up at work,” as Iba said this, the rabbi turned around and looked at Uta. He was startled at how quietly the other ghoul had appeared behind him.   
“That’s alright. I completely understand,” as Uta spoke, Rabbi Eli seemed to be sizing him up, to see if he could get him to stop bothering the two.   
“Hey, Uta hun. I think I should go back to our place instead of the Christmas bash, my head is killing me!” Iba was hoping that this little gesture would get him to help her out of such an odd situation.  
Uta raised his eyebrow quizzically and walked over to Iba’s other side, put an arm around her waist and started to walk with her towards the fourth ward. As he did so, Iba waved to the rabbi, nodding a little goodbye and sliding her arm around Uta’s back until they could no longer smell the man.  
“What was that all about?” Uta let his arms fall back to his sides, wishing he could have held onto her a moment longer.  
“That’s the man who paid for my apartment, store and pretty much my entire life in Japan. He’s a little weird though; he always looks the same, and has this tendency to suck on his own finger when he’s hungry. It’s creepy.” Iba shuddered and put her arms around herself.  
“So, your first instinct was, ‘our place’?” Uta smirked at the disgusted look Iba gave him.  
“Oh get over yourself,” Iba shoved the tattooed ghoul towards the street playfully.  
“You’re going to be very interested in what the Helter Skelter looks like once we get there.” Uta says as they round the corner to the bar.  
“I bet I will. Itori always did have a knack for décor.” Iba ran down the steps, taking a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it with the hot pink lighter she always carried.   
“What are you doing?” The other ghoul stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her.  
“Taking a cigarette break before I go inside.” Iba shrugged off the question and took a long puff.  
“Stop that,” as soon as Uta had said it, he smacked the cigarette from her hands and stubbed it out.  
“What the hell?” Iba shouted, as she reached in her pocket for another cigarette the male took a hold of her wrist and pinned it above her head.   
“I told you to quit that back when you started, are you trying to die?” His voice coming out much harsher than intended, Uta sighed and released her.  
Iba smirked, wanting to use the position to her advantage, she leaned in, putting her hand behind his head and pulled his lips down onto her own. Not expecting it, Uta stared at her, and slowly moved into the kiss, before stopping himself, remembering what this woman had told him not a week before.  
“We can’t. You said this wasn’t what you wanted… I don’t want to press you into anything you don’t want.” His voice was genuinely concerned and his eyes seemed to be searching for something her eyes.  
“I know I said that, but look up.”  
As he looked at the ceiling above them, a smile was put on his face for the foolish way he had acted.  
Mistletoe.


	8. Night Sweats

Iba screamed herself awake once more, it was the 3rd night in a row that she had the recurring dream, the only problem was it was getting worse and worse, she would look at the person and slowly, the face would get more and more contorted and as she ran through the synagogue she felt someone touching her shoulder, she would trip, get up and run into a room, then realize that the room was just another set of stairs or hallways, until finally she came face to face with a wall and woke up.

It was all she could do not to call into the store each morning, and say that she wasn’t fit, instead she would often get up, fill up her bright blue kettle and put it on the stove. The kettle had been with her all these years, it had a handle that had rusted, broken been glued back in place and broken again. It was the only constant in her world of fighting the odds, within minutes, she would prepare a dark roast coffee and sift through the many hundreds of emails she got, watch the news or listen to the radio.

In the past two weeks, Iba had gotten over 500 requests to co-design with various companies across all of Japan; however, she denied every one of them. Not because she wanted to be a snob, but because of the danger of leaving Tokyo, by far it was the most secure town in all of Japan, although the 4th Ward was a war zone, she could not choose to risk her life away from the stream of consciousness that is Tokyo’s underground.

 

Iba wakes up the next morning, Saturday, the one day she reserves. Her mind immediately flocked with thoughts.

“Shower, groceries and call Yomo…” Iba mutters her list and pulls herself out of bed, turning off her alarm and cranking up the radio, beginning to sing along.

 

Memory Memory now

You are nothing but a

Memory Memory now

You're burning out

Utsurikawari iku sedai koutai

Atooi wa shinai shin sedai

Memory Memory now

Go on and f*ck yourself

 

As Iba stepped out of the shower, her phone buzzed.

“Yello?” Iba balanced the phone on her shoulder as she pulled on a pair of jeans.

“I’m outside, let me in,” the voice was deep and reminded her of many unhealthy nights spent watching TV and fooling around in her grandmother’s living room.

“Rude~ I was about to call you, give me a second to put some clothes on,” she put the phone down, tied up her hair, and pulled a tank top on, then ran out to the door.

Yomo looked at Iba from head to toe, scoffing and slipping past her through the doorway.

“I haven’t seen you without makeup in… I don’t know, a good 10 years?”

“Yeah, well get over yourself big guy, I just didn’t think it was all that important for going to get the _groceries_.” Iba nodded towards her spotless kitchen, and laughed lightly.

“You know, I’ve always thought that you looked prettier without all the lipstick.” He was at least a head taller than her, but it didn’t bother them, as Yomo, moved in, he leaned down, holding Iba’s head in one hand, and her side in the other, pushing her against the doorframe, but he still hesitated.

“And it’s not in the way, so what’s stopping you?” She stared him dead in the eyes, arms relaxed, ready for one of the best things she missed since she had left.

“You’ll see,” he moved in farther, kissing her with one part lust two parts pent up anger, moving both his hands to her hips and lifting her up, pushing her hard against the door frame, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and arms around his neck.

 

/Song Memories - ONE OK ROCK/

//If you would like to read a lemon continuation of this chapter please follow this link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5489438 It is not essential to read this as it is only a supplemental part of the story.//


	9. Chapter Eight: Look Back

Iba rolled around in the sheets, grabbing onto anything she could, another nightmare to plague her and keep her from her peace. Yet somehow it was different this time.

 

_In dream_

_She was walking down the streets of Tokyo, feeling something following her. Whatever it was it had the speed of a ghoul but the stealth and stink of a human. With every step, Iba moved closer to her destination, and the being moved closer towards her._

_To keep herself from looking over her shoulder, she looked at the buildings, stores, and eventually as she got farther and farther in her trek, houses that surrounded her._

_When she finally had enough of walking, she stopped, and the creature enveloped her in darkness, she writhed and shouted, screaming for help, but was eventually pinned to the ground._

_It was over._

_End dream._

 

Iba looked up at her aggressor, tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Ren…” Her voice was weak and she could no longer contain the fear that she had inside since she had arrived to Tokyo. As Yomo loosened his grip, Iba slid her arms around his neck, crying into his neck. The two were still sweaty from last night’s escapade, but the contact was comforting non-the less.

The two lay back down onto the bed; Yomo stroked Iba’s hair and began to do his best to repeat the lullaby that Iba’s grandmother had sung to her.

Don’t worry little butterfly,

Don’t worry little one,

You may rest now,

Now that the pain is done,

I am here,

Do not fear,

I am here,

Eternally,

Let,

Oh let it be,

 

Although it was almost futile, Iba relaxed in his arms and eventually fell back to sleep. Yomo kept hold of her, his hand tangled in her long brown hair, it was something odd to think that this now grown woman was the same girl he had fallen for not 10 years ago.

Pressing a kiss into her hair, the white haired male inhaled her scent and remembered the first time they had admitted their feelings. It was so long, but such a fond memory that he had dwelled on over the passing years.

 

_The two were sitting in Iba’s grandmother’s apartment, in front of the television, playing checkers. Back then Iba was the type to dress in all black, all the time, wear her hair down and be even more straightforward than now._

_“You staying over tonight?” Iba moved her piece, hopping over 3 of Yomo’s and moving them off to the side of the board._

_“Only if I win this time,” moving his last remaining piece into the trap she had set, he looked intently at the board._

_“Too bad, I was really looking forward to drawing a mustache on your face,” smirking, she hopped the piece and claimed her fifth victory. “Well, you want to stay for a bit longer? I could use the company.”_

_Iba put the game back into its box, getting up and putting it away on the bookshelf. The two were quiet as she sat back down across from Yomo. The male leaned back on his palms, keeping his gaze fixed on the girl who was at least 4 years his junior._

_“Creep, quit staring at me like that.” They fought playfully often enough, but it didn’t keep it from bothering him that what she said might be the way she actually thought._

_“Am I really that ‘creepy’?” The question was inevitable, and as soon as he asked, it was out there, never to be taken back._

_“No,” Iba looked at her fingers and mumbled a little apology tied to a comment she could never say to him with confidence._

_“What?” Sitting up, he leaned in to hear her better and hopefully get her to repeat herself._

_“N-nothing…” It was almost so terrifying, having to own up to feelings that you don’t understand, especially at 15, and being a ghoul makes it worse, attachment can get you killed and can kill you._

_“The fearless Iba stuttering? I never thought I’d see the day.” The teasing went both ways, but it never stopped them from feeling guilty about the possibility of the other disliking them._

_“Sh-shut up,” letting her hair, fall in front of her face to hide the blotchy blush that was spreading across her face._

_“No.” This he said softly, putting a hand in her soft brown hair, and guiding it behind her ear. “What’s wrong?”_

_“…Nothing… that’s the problem…” As she said this, Iba felt her heart beat faster; surely he didn’t want to be with someone so much younger, so ignorant to love and whom he treated kid sister rather than even a friend._

_If he had the courage, Yomo would admit that he had been questioning her feelings, whether she would want to be with someone her own age, or if he was forever stuck in this infinite loop of emotional agony. The torture of wanting to know, but not wanting to be let down at the same time was making his heart race; he knew being so nervous, the girl in front of him would never make the first move and that was only if he was right._

_“Iba, look at me.” He said her name so rarely, but it sounded like he had practiced saying it a thousand times to himself in the mirror._

_When she did look at him, she seemed on the verge of tears, her lips trembling and eyes still angled at the floor. However, it was his decision to change this. He put one hand through her hair, on the back of her neck, and the other on her hip, leaning in and engaging their lips in a fiery new experience._

_Her reaction was to be expected, she went rigid at first, but slowly melted into it, putting her hands on his forearms and closing her eyes, then moving in the rhythm of the kiss. The motion was new, but so easy to follow, as well._

_Although they had never said anything out loud, the kiss was an answer enough for both of them. The response was something wonderful, sweet and truly longed for._

Yomo began to drift off to sleep while thinking of how the two had spent the rest of the night in front of the television, under a heavy quilt that smelled like fresh ground coffee and laundry detergent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I would like to make a note to thank someone who told me that Sukoshi does not actually mean ‘little’ but instead means ‘little bit’. Thank you AnoneGanbare on ArchiveofOurOwn for telling me the correct translation for Little Butterfly would be Chiisai Chō. Even if I’m not changing the title, I appreciate the correction and shall keep the note on all publications of this story.)


	10. Chapter Nine: Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs that describe Yomo and Iba's relationship:
> 
> HAHA you have to read it first

Iba woke up to light crème sheets and the smell of coffee, the sunlight just barely breaking through the heavy curtains. Her perception of the world was fuzzy as she pulled the comforter back up to her eyes, wanting to keep out the morning and the work that was to be done.

The door to the bedroom slid open and a mostly naked Yomo stepped through holding two very mismatched mugs of steaming hot coffee. The fact that he only bore his under-clothing was reminder enough of Iba’s own naked state underneath the covers of her bed.

“You awake?” The male ghoul set down one mug and moved the comforter so as to get under them with her, then handed the one mug to Iba before sipping from his own.

“Barely,” she stared up at him, even sitting next to each other, there was an evident height difference. “I thought you would have left by now.”

To this there was no response, it may have been how he was when he was younger, but he had no idea how to explain how he was changing for the better. Instead he sipped his coffee and looked around the room at the muddy purple walls, there were movie posters, a dresser, bookcase, desk and lots of makeup in front of a full-length mirror. To be honest, it looked a lot like a teenager’s room; but it still felt like they were teenagers to him.

“I have to go to work soon,” Iba finished off her coffee, shocking Yomo, he had just made that batch and it should have been scalding her insides, and then remembered her bad habit. “Quit staring.”

“I wasn’t.” He looked into his mug; slipping back into his mind to the first time he caught her smoking.

 

_It was three days after Iba’s 18 th birthday and Yomo was walking over to take Iba out for a little while. When he arrived at her house, he saw her standing in the snow, in back of her grandmother’s apartment, holding that little stick of chemicals, just before putting it into her mouth, lighting it and signing her death sentence. _

_“What the fuck are you doing!” He had never spoken to her like that before and the fact that his emotions were getting the better of him in this situation, made his chest ache._

_“What do you think I’m doing?” She stared at him blankly, it was like she knew it was wrong, but was denying it because she didn’t give a damn. In fact, he was certain that was what she was doing. “I’m having a break from that madwoman.” She shrugged off the callus words and took another long puff._

_As he stepped closer he could see she was completely relaxed and smell the pungent tang of tobacco and the intermixed poisons. Yomo slapped the cigarette from her hands as she started to protest and go after it, he stomped it out, preventing her from going any farther._

_“You didn’t have to do that…”_

_“Oh didn’t I?” He glared at her and grabbed her wrist as she reached for the pack of cigarettes and lighter. She looked up at him in shock, his grip only tightening._

_“Let. Go. Of. Me.” Trying to escape his grasp, she twisted her wrist until there was an audible_ snap _and the skin began to puff and turn a red-ish purple._

_“Why?” Before he could be answered, Iba’s eyes shifted to the door, Nana, watching them from inside. She was a wise woman, but her one flaw was the she thought people would work things out if they truly loved each other._

_“Next time, just ask.” She stared at her hand, but the effect was the same._

“Really? It looked to me like you were staring.” The sound of her voice brought him back out of the memory. It was like waking up in a cold sweat, because she was right there in his mind, and next to him in bed. “Anyways, I have work in about an hour so, if you don’t mind.”

She pulled herself from underneath the covers, and walked to her dresser, pulling out underwear, a t-shirt, and a full-length skirt.

“Can you just stand there for a bit?” he was bashful saying it, but even though he had seen her just last night, it had been so long since before then.

“Perv.” However, when she set the clothes down on the edge of the bed, she stood back up and stared at them, not minding the cold air touching her bare skin. “Okay, you’ve had your fun.”

 

Nearly and hour later, the two were dressed and standing in front of Iba’s apartment door.

As Yomo turned to leave Iba caught his arm, “Hey, you were pretty damn good last night.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send My Love - Adele  
> Mighty Long Fall - ONE OK ROCK
> 
>  
> 
> Also have a few for Uta and Iba's relationship.


	11. Chapter Ten: Secrets Part Two

Another successful day at Sukoshi Chō, at least by Iba’s standards, selling out of the entire stiff lace and onyx collection within the time it took her to take inventory and eat lunch. The boutique was growing with an immense speed; in just the last month, she had doubled the amount of money that it had required her to start up the business.

However, when Iba walked home each night, she felt a little bit lost, like something wasn’t right and she yearned to know why. Of course, her first thought was that her grandmother wasn’t near her, or that maybe it was her conflictions of the heart catching up to her, yet when she thought too hard, she realized it was something that hadn’t quite been addressed since she was 19 years old and in the USA on a small farm that hid away the last of the ghoul population in that town.

“Shamira…” she hadn’t said that name or seen the little girl since she was born. It was all so sudden as she walked past the tall buildings and down alleys, her muscle memory telling her which way to go and what to do.

The little girl Shamira, would be six years old in March, she had black hair like her father and green eyes like her mother, such a beautiful little girl, such pale skin, and was so delicate.

Hearing the honk of someone’s car horn, Iba snapped out of her mind and looked around, she realized that she was in the middle of the street, just standing there as someone was trying to pass on a green light. When she ran she felt the cold winter’s air blow into her face, whip at her long hair it made her want to go into the nearest heated building. Fortunate as it was that the fourth ward’s resident mask maker’s light was still on.

Slamming the heavy bolted door behind her, Iba looked around the shop, taking in the familiar scents of cow leather, feathers, tacky glue, metal mixed with blood and the ever-obvious scent of the ghoul whom occupied this place.

As she walked around, looking at all of the well crafted masks, Iba thought about things that weren’t all that important, business totals, material quality, import rates, really just things that had to do with the products themselves and no more with the items that had persuaded her to enter this building in the first place.

“Hey.” His face was blank, but his eyes were intrigued, that was all she could say, as Iba looked up at him standing right in front of her, he stood about a head over her, but it was no problem, it wasn’t like she was planning on kissing him.

“I-“ she paused, collecting her thoughts, and fiddled with the necklace at her throat. “I have something I need to tell you.”

He nodded as if asking her to go on.

“It’s about why I left.”

And that’s when his emotions began to show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm mean.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Uncovered

Iba was once a very open and outgoing person, however something changed one evening;

 

_It was late November and snow was falling down heavily from the sky, layering itself over the slush and ice already packed down on the flat surfaces of Tokyo, Japan._

_Iba opened her laptop, sent a message and closed the laptop again. The message was short and to the point._

Dear Nana,

 

I am at a friend’s house- I will not be home tonight because of the snow.

I am safe, please eat without me.

 

-Iba

_In all truth, Iba wasn’t even hungry, she had eaten earlier that week because some guy had been staring at her ass on the last train and then made snide comments about her lipstick color and how it made her look like a ‘_ tipsy hooker who had to use crayons instead of makeup’ _. However the real problem was with what might happen when Iba lay down to sleep on the floor of this temporary home._

_“So, I think these are all the blankets I have…” Uta came from the back closet, holding a rather small stack of blankets and a couple of pillows in his arms. “Do you think you can make do with this?”_

_“Yeah, I can make it work.” Taking the blankets and pillows, Iba began to arrange the items in a sort of nest form on Uta’s living room floor; the two had been hanging around his shop all day, trying to design her second mask it. It was going to be a ceramic full-face mask with metal plating that created intricate lace designs and little butterflies that swarmed around her eyes and mouth._

_“Are you sure you don’t want to take the bed?” Uta had been stressing since the wind started to whip snow onto the windows of the apartment that he didn’t need to sleep in the bed._

_“No thanks, I really don’t mind sleeping here, if you had a couch though.” Iba looked around the room again, minimalistic surroundings, TV in the corner, table and one wooden chair, a rug was on the floor, the kitchen was decent, the only problem was the fridge was barren and their were heavy black curtains over the windows._

_When Uta finally decided that arguing was now futile, he retired to his room and assumedly went to sleep. Yet within 2 hours the snowstorm cut out the power, which in turn, cut out the heat to the entire building, block and neighborhood._

_Iba woke with a start; she was shocked by the cold and when she looked down she felt as if her toes were frozen solid. Getting up she wrapped the blankets around her and walked slowly towards Uta’s bedroom. She thought as she walked nearer to the door that perhaps it was a bad idea, and paused, then started to walk again, then pause and walk again. Yet when she finally reached the threshold she looked into the darkness, put her hand out to feel the wood, breathed in and sighed before she turned the door handle and walked in._

_“Uta?” He stirred only a little bit at the noise._

_As Iba moved closer, she hesitated more, questioning why she was doing this, but then though to herself that if she had gone this far, that she should continue._

_“Uta wake up,” laying a hand on his should and gently shaking him, Iba’s breathe hitched when he turned around with his messy bleached hair and face, eyes, red from lack of sleep._

_“Wha-“ rubbing his eyes sleepily, Uta looked at Iba through the pitch black and sighed. “What’s wrong now?”_

_“The power’s out…”_

_“Oh. Okay then.” Uta rolled onto his back, and pulled back the covers, not that Iba could see._

_Hearing the sheets rustle, Iba felt around and slipped in between the covers with Uta, curling up to him._

_“Thank you.”_

_Uta wrapped his arms around Iba, kissing her forehead, cheek and temple and hugging her tightly._

_“Uta, we shouldn’t…”_

_“Just relax, I’m trying to keep you warm.”_

_The rest of the night fell away under the blankets, touching, cuddling, kissing, it was all so sweet and dream like- but now, now there was a real issue._

“Uta,” Iba looked at him from across the room. “I, I-“

He stared at her, practically begging her to go on.

“Do you remember the night when I stayed over?” She didn’t even wait for a response, “her name is Shamira, she’d be six now. I-I miss her, but she has parents that love and take care of her; in the USA.”

Uta looked to her as if he was going to cry, but couldn’t, he seemed to have words in his head as well, but couldn’t use them properly. The two stared at each other for a good ten minutes before Iba fell apart; her silent tears of regret were now loud pitiful sobs as she leaned against the metal doorframe, sliding to the floor.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, she was supposed to be strong, brave, a fearless woman like her mother and grandmother. She was born from one of the most prestigious families, known for surviving no matter the consequence- and yet here she was, on the floor of the mask makers shop, crying like a baby, regretting her every move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not mean for the purpose of being mean, I'm mean because this is drama.
> 
> I'm only sadistic when it comes to personal relationships.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Torn Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (WARNING: This chapter is gruesome... -ish.)

 

Iba sat in her dark apartment, the smell of human blood wafting through the air as if it was nothing. She seemed to have lost all appetite after hearing this stupid human scream over his family. Why did everyone these days have to use that same excuse? It got under her skin.

She was mulling over her blood wine when the sounds of that damn human coughing snapped her out of her trance. His torso split open, innards on the floor with over a liter of blood. Why wouldn’t he just die?

“Please… just… I don’t want to die…” So pathetic.

Iba turned around and stared at him. “You have kids?”

The man looked shocked, of all the things a ghoul could be saying or doing, she was asking about his kids.

“Y-yes.”

“How many? Boys or girls? How old?” Why did she care anyways? He was going to die in 20 to 30 minutes the way he was bleeding so why was she questioning him? Besides all these questions were ridiculous and had no relevance, at least not to him.

“I-I have two… two li-little girls,” the man took a breathe. “F-four and seven they…” the man took a deep breathe in and laid his head back.

Determined to hear more, the madwoman slammed her hand down next to the man’s head. “Tell me more. What are their names?”

“Ma-mari and… and... Saki.” Now the man was gasping for breathe with every syllable; he would obviously be dead soon.

“What are they like?”

“W-why… do… you… ca-care…?”

“JUST TELL ME DAMN IT!” She screamed. Why did she care? It wasn’t like she would ever meet them.

“Ma-mari is s-mart, sh-she lik-likes to r-read and wr-write with her cl-class. S-saki is s-shy, she w-wants t-to be l-like her m-mom t-though; A d-doctor.” A small smile plays the man’s lips as he looks at the ceiling, thinking of his daughters that would probably be wondering where he is at this hour.

Iba looks at the man and sighs. Why…

“Do… do you h-have chil-children?”

Iba sat next to the man on the floor, pulling her knees in and began to tell him everything; the only problem was that his body was beginning to go cold by the time she f


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Help

No matter how hard she scrubbed the floor Iba could not remove the bright red blood stains from the pale floorboards. What she did she had regretted instantly.

Why had she been so stupid?

Even if she managed to clean the floor or had to put carpet over it, the man’s memory would still be there- with her in the back of her mind for all eternity. All she could think was how badly she wanted to take it all back, not stab that man with her Kagune in the alleyway behind her store, not bring him back to her apartment and torture him about his life after turning him inside out on.

Iba stormed into the shower room; she had to get out, before she went absolutely mad, but she had to get rid of the blood that covered her. She would still stink like human, why even bother to rub the creamy white shampoo into her scalp, it just turned a shade of light pink and refused to rinse from her hair. Feeling the hot water didn’t help either; it just reminded her of the blood as it had trickled down her hands.

 _Fuck_.

She stepped out of the shower and bore her flesh to the cold air. It was never going to end, she just needed to get out. Leave the apartment and do something else, drink, screw, smoke, _something_. Iba wrapped herself in a towel, another thing to be stained red, and marched out of the shower room to get her phone. Before she could touch it, she stopped, who the hell would help her. She was in too deep this time.

Ignoring the thoughts, she picked up the phone dialing the only numbers she needed. Now to wait.

 

((I decided not to ruin ya’lls lives after all. Was gonna do something TERRIBLE, maybe next time.))


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Innocence Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter is not my opinion of all Rabbis, religious persons in power or men, this is just something that I decided to put in for the sake of story progression. If you have issues with violation and non-consensual writing, please skip this chapter and wait for the next. I am writing from experience so this may be a bit too realistic for some. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Note: This chapter is not my opinion of all Rabbis, religious persons in power or men, this is just something that I decided to put in for the sake of story progression. If you have issues with violation and non-consensual writing, please skip this chapter and wait for the next. I am writing from experience so this may be a bit too realistic for some. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

 

It had been over half an hour since Iba had called on the Rabbi, and he still hadn’t shown. Why hadn’t he turned up, knocking on the door with that creepy smile and smell of old books mixed with blood wine? He should have been here by now; she knew he lived only a 15 minutes walk from her apartment.

When she heard a loud banging on the door Iba sighed with relief and put out her cigarette in the makeshift ashtray and went to the door. What she didn’t expect is that the man whom gave her a second chance in Tokyo, paid for her apartment, her store and helped her to come back from the other side of the world, to be so forward.

“Iba, are you alright? I hurried over as soon as I could get away, but it seems that I’ve gotten here too early,” he was smiling that off putting smile and looking down Iba’s towel.

“No, you’re fine. I’m just in need of some counseling, sorry for being indecent.” Iba started to walk turn and walk towards her room when Rabbi Eli grabbed her wrist.

“It’s fine, you’re in distress and I can only imagine what you’ve gone through.”

“Let go.” The words came out more as a whimper than the threating tone Iba had intended.

“Why?” His grip tightened, bruising her and digging his nails into her now purpling flesh. “We’re friends right?”

“I said let go.” The cinching grip caused her eyes to water and voice to crack. It was unavoidable now. She twisted her arm violently, snapping the bone and making her wrist flexible enough to pull through his grip and make a dash for her phone. Running to grab for her phone, Iba slipped on the still wet floor and fell, popping her jaw out of place and spraining her ankle, but she was still reaching when he disrobed her and… did things.

 

When he was finished he pulled himself back up from the floor and dusted himself off, more or less. Iba slid across the floor, pushing up against a wall and moaned in pain, praying for it all to be a bad dream.

“Well, if you hadn’t run, or better yet had been more accepting of this, then it wouldn’t have happened.” He stepped closer and crouched next to her, grabbing her by the chin and moving her to face him, before popping her jaw back into place. “Now you know better for next time.”

Tears streamed down her face, but her temper got the better of her as she spit in his face. When his hand made contact with her face, she was stunned, her vision wavering as she was knocked to the ground again. It was over, she was dead, that was the only explanation, she had never been in this much pain and he had weakened her enough that her Kagune wasn’t responding.

            He took her phone from the counter top and threw it down beside her, cracking the screen and sending tiny splinters of glass everywhere. “Go ahead, call them, whoever they are. You know I won’t be here when they come.”

She took the phone, and stared, it was too damaged to do any good now.

He walked to the door, turned and looked at her naked form huddled in the corner. Enjoying every moment of her agony.

This had to be the end.

“Oh and by the way, I’m thinking about going to see your daughter soon, what was her name again? Shelly, Shari? Well, whatever it was, she’s not even yours.”

Iba was too overcome with terror to even reply. He couldn’t, she wouldn’t be allowed near him, not her daughter, please no.

 

((I ruined everyone’s lives, but wait THERE’S MORE!))


	16. Author's Note

Hi everyone, I wanted to let you all know that I have had to give up one of my computers and so I am now switching ALL of my files to a different computer. In conclusion chapters may take longer to come out and not be as polished as I would like, but I do have some on the way. If anything major comes up don't worry, I will tell you all. Also, thank you all for sticking with me even though I ruined your lives.


	17. Chapter Fifteen: Wits End

Iba’s head ached and her ears rang as she laid herself down on the bed. She felt disgusting and wanted to take another bath, but she had no strength left to walk to the shower room and then get up afterwards.

She looked to the clock on her nightstand and sighed loudly: 21:48.

Slowly she began to drift off, but awoke with a start when her nightmares began to catch up to her. It was all she could do not to give up as she stared at the clock, waiting for it to be morning so she could go to work and loose herself in it all.

“Fuck.” Iba sat up slowly, still clutching the towel that was around her waist and got up to get her landline phone. As she stumbled out of her bedroom, she glanced at the bloody mess on the floor and the other ‘things’.

She picked up the phone and dialed the number, praying silently that he would pick up.

 

“Yes?” It felt like she had been waiting on the phone for hours.

“Hi, I, I need you t-to come over please. I-I need help. Please.” Her voice was quiet and she whimpered a little as she bit her lip to keep from crying.

“Okay, I’ll be right over, just stay put,” there was a long silence between the two before he spoke again. “Are you okay?”

“No, p-please just hurry up.”

 

Iba picked up her phone to call for the third time. He wasn’t there yet. Why not? Where the hell was he?

The door opened not 10 minutes later and Uta entered the room, looking at the floor and taking it all in, but the door opened once more and someone else stepped in.

“Ren?” She stared at them both as she curled up on the floor next to a bookcase, using it as support.

“What the hell happened here?” Uta was always the first to ask.

“I-I th-thought, I thought I could trust him, he-he came in and-and told me that it would all be over s-soon…” She began to cry again, loud childish sobs with fat tears rolling down and staining her cheeks.

Not knowing what to do, the two men stood by the door for a long time before Yomo walked over and crouched down next to her. He reached to touch her hair, but like a cat, she pulled back until the back of her head hit the wall. He slowly reached out again and brushed the back of his hand and his knuckles on her freckled cheek.

“You’re cold.” Uta reached for a blanket off the couch, but Yomo had already taken his jacket off and wrapped it around her by the time he looked back.

Iba looked past Yomo and at Uta with the same eyes as the day in his shop. She looked healthy on the outside, but her eyes had a dull sheen that no one ever envies. Her hair was in ratty clumps and the skin that usually was pale with the occasional blemish was now covered in bruises and scratches.

“Do you want me to clean this up?” Uta’s question was quiet, almost to the point that she didn’t hear him. The dead silence made him feel like he was being let down all over again.

“Y-yeah, that would be great…” Iba’s voice trailed off as she stared back down at the floor and leaned her head on Yomo’s shoulder. He was steady and wrapped his arms around her shoulders before helping her to stand.

“Come on, you need a bath.” He guided her towards the shower-room and opened the door for her.

“You’re not going to wash me are you?”

“What, would you rather Uta do it?”

Iba looked at the aforementioned ghoul with her tired eyes, knowing it would be odd if she said yes. “I-I guess not.”

Uta’s heart sunk, thinking she didn’t want him. Angrily he went for the mop in the closet, grabbing a bucket and bleach, then began to fill the bucket, mopping and scrubbing the floor as hard as he could. Yet the question of why he called her kept popping into his head like an annoying little bug.


	18. Teaser Chapter

“Can I kiss you?”

At first he wanted to just lean in, but then he actually considered it.

Would it really be all that bad if they kissed? It was just two people touching lips for a few seconds.

But what if it was a bad kiss?

What if he hated how she tasted and she hated his technique (what technique?).

Nevermind, it was just a kiss, it wasn't going to scar them that badly. 

“It's fine with me.” He tried to hide the excitement in his voice. 

The two leaned in ready for something wonderful, when they heard a key in the door. 

“OH FUCK! Yomo’s home!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THATS RIGHT!!! I'M BACK~


	19. Why This Story Ended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an author's note

To everyone who has been so kindly following this story, or has found this story after a while and is interested in why I stopped this story; I can no longer write this because I realise that I had no plan for the story to go much farther than it did. Now like the sadist I am, I could just kill Iba off and leave you all crying- however I've decided that I'm not going to do that.  
I'm going to leave this story up for people to enjoy. I'm also going to tell you the ending that I had in mind  
Now if anyone wants to take over the story- feel free, I'm done with this. 

SPOILERS AHEAD

So, a big secret in the story is how Shamira is still alive, and why Iba would give her child up after so long with her.  
Well, Iba try felt that Shamira would be safer in a country overseas where she didn't have to fight for her life every second. Her plan originally was to come back to Tokyo and sort out a life for her and Shamira- and once Shamira was old enough she could come live with her mother. Now many people advised her to just stay with her daughter overseas because ultimately that was safer. However, Iba is attracted to danger, and wanted to go back home, but disguised it as a trip to find love not expecting that she actually would find love. (Cue that one Rhianna song)  
As for who Iba ends up with. No one, and its not because she dies or something, that would be all too good. It's because she loves both men, but can't stand to choose, so she chooses her daughter instead.   
YUP!  
And if you're wondering if that scumbag Eli dies, NOPE. We tried. He just kept coming back.

Okay, I'm gonna stop now cause I'm getting a bit too meta and I have summed up the whole ending.

**Author's Note:**

> \- The music I listen to when writing this.  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLUwlYo_IsrKH7XA-NB_XtrIlPDIDETnma
> 
> \- I have posted this to my Fanfiction.net account, Quotev account and Wattpad account.


End file.
